Lady Victoria's Lover
by PRrrr
Summary: Lady Victoria of House Chase comes to Blackwell Castle to marry Ser Nathaniel Prescott, heir to the Lordship of Arcadia Bay. Unexpectedly, she finds a true love, someone able to warm her ice cold heart. Unfortunately, that someone isn't her increasingly unstable husband. LiS characters in ASOIAF/GoT world. A crazy crossover possibly no one but the author needed or wanted.


**Chapter 1 – An offer you can't refuse.**

Growing up, the young lady Chase lacked for nothing but mother's love. Eloise Chase died in childbirth when Victoria was still short of her second nameday and she had no recollections of her.

Later, when she was 8 or 9, a nanny told her that her lord father, Garth Chase, loved her lady mother deeply, and after her death, wept for a week and hardly even slept for a month. Then he redirected all his feelings toward his only living heir, the little lady Vicky.

"It's Victoria, never Vicky. And servants like you shouldn't gossip about their betters", _little lady_ scolded the nanny. The next day she asked for the her to be replaced and her father obliged, for he never said no to her.

Her every request was fulfilled and her every wish granted. She dressed and styled her hair after queen Cersei. She had lemoncakes in the winter, if that was her want. If she expressed desire to learn a musical instrument, or to write poetry, or ride on horseback, teachers were immediately hired for her only to be dismissed at a moment's notice when she got tired of her latest interest.

At age 12, she started to fancy herself a painter. An artist from one of the Free Cities was hired as her tutor. To everyone's surprise, that one whim actually turned into Victoria's first real passion. The foreign painter remained in the Chase Hall for 5 years, until he taught his pupil everything he knew.

It was during that time that concerns were first raised about Lady Victoria's behavior. She was aloof and condescending not only to servants (that was to be expected after all), but also to other nobles. At 13, she received her first marriage proposal, from a pimple-faced Florent squire who saw her at a tourney year earlier. She laughed in his face, reducing the boy to tears. Over the next few years, several other matrimonial hopefuls come to Chase Hall only to get rebuffed in a similar way. All were lords or first sons of lords, there was even a lesser Tyrell among them.

Lord Garth Chase was growing concerned. Did he really spoilt his daughter rotten, at the same time ruining her future? Truth to be told, he couldn't bring himself to discipline her. When Victoria was 14, he brought a peasant girl, Taylor, to serve as a whipping girl. From this time on, Victoria's every transgression would be punished with her being forced to watch Taylor's whipping.

To say this backfired horribly would be an understatement. Seeing other girl punished and crying awakened something in Victoria, but not something that was actually intended. It was noted by the whole household that after every punishment session she would retire to her quarters and forbid everyone entry. At first her father though she was remorseful, hiding her guilt and shame. Very soon his hopes were dashed as Victoria's misdeeds increased tenfold, and she himself took to administering physical punishment to incompetent or lazy servants, particularly the young, female ones. She was insistent that even the smallest mistakes had to be severely punished. She also started to spend more and more time in various secluded locations, with only the whipping girl Taylor and her personal handmaiden Courtney as companions.

Soon after her 15th nameday the unfortunate punishment experiment ended (though the girl Taylor remained in the household). Alas, it was enough for Victoria's to acquire a reputation among smallfolk. She was now known not only as mean and demanding, but also as needlessly cruel. People were dreading the day she would become the new ruling lady of Chase Hall.

Then, a year or so later, Lord Chase met a new woman, a rich merchant's daughter not much older than his own child. They married and she bore him a strong, healthy boy. Everything changed.

"Shameful! Obscene! Unnatural! With your own handmaiden!," Lord Garth shouted while hitting the desk with his hand.

"Are you done, papa?" Victoria gave him her best _I'm not bothered_ look.

"Don't _papa_ me young lady!," her father responded.

"I don't see what's the problem. I've certain needs, surely its better if they're fulfilled by handmaidens than stable boys. Or would you prefer if I was walking around with a bastard in my belly."

"I would prefer if you behaved like a true lady. Your late mother remained pure and innocent until the night of our marriage," Lord Chase said coldly.

"Of course, girls gets purity and innocence, boys get all the fun," she rolled her eyes at him. "I bet you got some poor maids to suck you off after mamma died. Of course, now you've got a whore on retainer there's no need…"

She was stopped midsentence when her father slapped her in the face. She sat in silence, shocked at what just happened.

"It took me way too long, but now I know that I've failed your mother by allowing you to grow up into a complete opposite of her. I won't make the same mistake with my son and heir. I don't want you setting a bad example for your brother. Lord Prescott of Arcadia Bay asked for your hand in lieu of his son and heir. I accepted. You won't get a better offer, not with your attitude and growing reputation. You leave for the Westerlands before the week's end."

His betrayal hit her harder than his hand moments before. For the first time in her life, she felt like crying.

"You can't force me. You said you never would," she said quietly.

"I can't? I already did. Go back to your room," he responded and turned to studying a blank piece of paper on his desk.

She wanted to rage. She wanted to destroy that piece of paper, and that desk. She wanted to personally whip her lowborn stepmother, and her little halfbred whelp as well. She thought about running away. Yet, in the end, she walked back to her room and cried her eyes on the pillow.

An hour later, the wicked witch herself visited her. Voluptuous and revealingly dressed, she was comely in a vulgar way, which was fitting given her family background. So was her embarrassingly common name.

"Jeyne," she welcomed her, not willing to call her lady or mother.

"Vicky," the witch responded with a fake smile. "Is it true you're getting married? I'm so happy for you, better late than never as they say".

"I know you're behind this," Victoria said while looking her straight in the eyes.

"Yes, I'm," her stepmother responded with a surprising honesty, and immediately stopped smiling.

"While you're here, no children of mine is safe. You can't fault a mother for being concerned for her offspring. I won't be able to check every single piece of food for poison, stop every assassin's dagger", she declared.

For the second time today Victoria was so shocked she had trouble coming up with a response.

"You seriously can't… I'm not…," was all she managed.

"What, you're trying to say you wouldn't go that far? Let me tell you what I know about: you beat your servants bloody if they serve you soup that's a little too hot, your handmaidens are careful to never show the skin on their back, you have nothing but disdain for the smallfolks – and who am I and my son for you, if not some up-jumped peasants who forgot their place? You can see why I have my doubts."

"Get out," Victoria said quietly.

"As you wish," Jeyne agreed. "I want you to remember one thing though: I won't allow my child to be harmed. It's either you or me, Vicky".

Five days later she left her ancestral home. Her entourage consisted of a dozen armed guards on horseback and her two handmaidens, Taylor and Courtney. They shared a large carriage, and were followed by several wagons with travelling supplies as well as her clothes, jewelry, most of her paintings, even the furniture from here room.

They've made sure no trace of me will remain, Victoria thought bitterly.

Her father, suddenly remorseful, wanted to hug her, but she turned him away.

"I left you a portrait of mother, my best work yet. Maybe it'll stop you from forgetting her," she said as her goodbye.

To her stepmother, she said nothing, but to her own surprise, she accepted a parting gift from her mongrel son, a wooden toy.

That was it. Soon she was in the moving carriage, leaving her old life behind.

Taylor wanted to say something. Victoria raised her hand.

"No," she ordered.

After way too many weeks spend on the road and in ugly, smelly and lice infested inns, they finally left the Reach and entered the Prescott lands just across the Westerlands border. The Chase guards with a hound running after a hare on their liveries were replaced by the Arcadia Bay men bearing a white tower on a black background as their sigil, lead by someone calling himself Berry.

"Your lands look half empty, Berry," Victoria said while they were resting for the last time before reaching the Blackwell Castle.

Great. Not only I have to marry someone I've never met, I'll have to live in wasteland as well, she thought to herself.

"True not many people live here, m'lady, but we're rich, thanks to the lord's gold mine. You'll lack for nothing as the young ser's wife," Berry responded.

"What can you tell me about him?," suddenly she realized how little thought she has given her betrothed.

"Knighted at 16 and a decent tourney record, m'lady. His father's heir, of course, so he'll end up as a powerful and rich lord in time," Berry said.

"What about his looks?," Courtney asked, before turning her eyes to the ground after Victoria give her an angry look.

"I'm not the one to judge, but I don't think he lacks anything in that regard," Berry responded sounding uncomfortable.

"But he does lack in something?," Victoria enquired.

"The folly of the youth… Excuse me, m'lady, I need to check the horses," Berry added before suddenly getting up.

They reached the castle the following day. Officials, guardsmen, servants and dozens of smallfolk assembled to welcome her. The first to greet her was a middle-aged man of a strong statue, strong-jawed and clean-shaved, clad in expensive-looking ceremonial armor.

"Lady Victoria, or should I say – daughter – welcome to your new home," he reached to kiss her hand and she allowed him that honor.

"Lord Prescott," she curtsied.

"I'm sure you can't wait to meet your future husband", the old Prescott introduced her to a young man, tall and handsome with dark blond hair.

"My lady, tales of your beauty were understated," the young knight recited and following the example of his father kissed her on the hand.

"You jest, ser," she responded. "Else you must be talking about my inner beauty, for I'm pretty sure you can't see anything under the layers of dirt I've accumulated on my journey".

"Believe me, my lady, true beauty shines even under the most trying of circumstances," he answered and while he seemed agreeable enough, something in his cold blue eyes unsettled her for a moment. _The folly of the youth_. Perhaps I pay too much attention to servant's blabber. Most like they say worse things about me around the Chase Hall.

"Lady Victoria, you must be tired. Perhaps you would like to rest and refresh yourself in your new quarters before the supper?," Lord Prescott asked.

"Yes, that would be lovely," she responded finally turning away from his son.

"Excellent. Wells, get to it," the senior called and a servant come forward.

Victoria raised her eyebrows. The heavy-set man that now appeared ahead of her was black-skinned, and more extravagantly dressed than typical Westerosi commoner. A foreigner. Perhaps the Blackwell wasn't an absolute backwater after all.

"My lady, the name's Wells. I'm the majordomo of this castle, a principal servant of Blackwell. We've readied excelled quarters for you and your handmaidens. Hot bath's ready, and there are refreshments as well. Please follow me".

She obliged, and motioned to Courtney and Taylor to follow her. Wells led them inside the castle, and then through a maze of corridors.

"Is there anything I should know about my husband-to-be, Wells?," she asked on the way.

"Don't pay attention to any silly rumors, my lady," the majordomo responded quickly. "He's an excellent warrior, and a learned man as well. He often disappears for hours with Maester Mark as his only company."

They reached a massive door, and Wells labored heavily to open them.

"My lady, you first," he said with reverence after he was done.

Victoria walked forward with her head raised high, and promptly slipped on the wet floor. She hit the ground, and pushed into a small figure who then knocked over a large bucket, spilling filthy water everywhere.

"The seven hells?," Victoria cried out while her handmaidens and Wells almost tripped themselves over while trying to reach her.

"I'm terribly sorry, my lady!," Wells yelled like a wounded boar.

"M'lady, are you hurt?," Courtney said, or maybe Taylor, she didn't pay attention.

"I'm not dead yet, though I'm sure my dress is ruined," Victoria responded.

"You!," she pointed at the servant next to her who seemed paralyzed with fear. "It's your fault. Do you know you just ruined a dress worth 10 of your kind, you mindless cow?"

"Who's that anyway?," she asked Wells.

The majordomo sighted. "Max...Max Hill, the clumsiest scullery maid in the history of Blackwell. Lady Victoria, do you want this miscreant thrown out of that castle? Just say a word."

The pathetic mouse on the floor squeaked after hearing that, revealing that she was in fact able to make a sound.

"No," Victoria said feeling charitable. "She looks slow-witted to me. Perhaps I'll deal with her on my own. Just make sure she's not washing any floors while I'm nearby."

"Thank you, m'lady. It won't happen again, m'lady" the sad little mouse cried.

Victoria looked at her before responding. "Don't thank me yet," she said.


End file.
